Lunch
by lazaefair
Summary: Larry takes a lunch break. Larry/Ahkmenrah UST - squint and you might be able to see it. Some profanity.


Warm afternoon sunlight filtered through a set of nondescript blinds, falling in stripes across a single hand resting on a bed comforter - at least, it did until the owner of the hand suddenly exploded out of bed with a heartfelt, "Oh, shit," glanced at the bedside alarm clock ("Oh, _fuck_"), and flung himself into the kitchen to grope frantically for his cellphone.

"Hello? Rebecca? It's Larry. I'm so, so, so, _so_ sorry. I just, I forgot to set my alarm again, not that that's an excuse--I know this is the third time, and, I promise to make it up to you. What are you doing tomorrow? We can try lunch again. How do you feel about Greek? I know this great place in Queens--"

Across town, Rebecca tightened her lips and tapped a fingernail on the marble surface of the information desk as she waited for Larry's babbled apologies to wind down. When they didn't, she cut in. "Larry. Larry. Larr--LARRY."

"Yes?" he said meekly.

"Listen," she said gently. "I understand. No, really, I do," she cut him off again when he tried to say something. "You're the night guard: you work at night and sleep during the day, but I work during the day and sleep at night. Look, I like you and I can't thank you enough for showing me the Museum at night." She had to pause and swallow past the inevitable regret in her throat. The silence on the other end of the phone wasn't helping. "But I don't think it's going to happen. For us."

He said nothing for a while. She asked, "Larry?"

"Okay. Um. I." He blew a gust of air out. "I guess I understand."

She could have dropped the phone with relief. "All right. Um, I'll see you around, okay?"

"Sure. Have a nice afternoon, Rebecca."

_Well, that ends that_, Rebecca thought as she hung up, and tried not to feel too jubilant.

&&&

"God, I knew it was a mistake to let the British anywhere near the Zulus," Larry said by way of greeting and collapsed limply into the couch in the guard office.

Ahkmenrah looked up from whatever website he was surfing. "As you remain unstabbed, unspeared and unshot, I presume you eventually solved the situation."

"Yeah, no thanks to any of you guys. Where did everyone go? Teddy? Sacagawea?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to tell you their _specific_ whereabouts," Ahkmenrah said smoothly. "As for myself, I was caught up in an engrossing account of the American Civil War," he gestured to the computer screen which showed what looked suspiciously like a Ken Burns documentary, "and didn't hear anything amiss. Sorry."

Larry slowly let his head drop onto the back of the couch. He mused aloud to the ceiling, "Do I want to spend a lot of time and effort to weasel whatever those two are up to out of you? Or am I way too exhausted for that? Hmm. Should I eat my lunch instead?"

"It smells wonderfully tempting today," Ahkmenrah said (un)helpfully.

"Bullshit and both of us know it," Larry smirked at the ceiling, but held his arm out anyway. He heard a rustle and out of the corner of his eye, watched Ahkmenrah's arm move in a smoothly coordinated motion. A paper bag landed in his hand a second later.

"Awesome, generic ham sandwich here I come," he said, drawing out a rubbermaid container with a flourish. Deprecating remarks aside, he dug into the sandwich with the appearance of full enjoyment. Babysitting a zoo was hungry work and he looked forward to his "lunch break" every night.

Peace settled over the office for a while as Larry munched and a soothing narrator voice described in detail the slaughterfields of Shiloh. Then, over the sounds of mournful violin music, Ahkmenrah asked, "So how did your lunch date with Rebecca go this time?"

Larry made a face mid-chew. "I overslept and she broke up with me when I called to apologize."

"My condolences."

"Thanks, but it's okay," Larry waved a dismissive hand. "We both sort of saw it coming. Funny thing," he took another bite of sandwich, "I was barely even thinking about her while she was dropping the axe."

Ahkmenrah raised his eyebrows. "Who were you thinking about, then?"

"Who said I was thinking about a person?" Larry said with an evil eyebrow quirk of his own.

As a pharaoh intricately trained in the fine art of diplomatic subterfuge, Ahkmenrah didn't even blink. "Dexter must weigh very heavily on your mind if you're thinking of him _that_ often."

Larry laughed out loud. Even the sudden roar and crash that filtered through the open office door failed to damp his apparent good mood. He bounced to his feet, tossing the remains of the sandwich in the trash while checking his flashlight in its holster. He pointed a finger at Ahkmenrah. "Hold that thought, and I mean it." Then he was gone, to save the Museum again.

Ashokan Farewell continued to play in the quiet that descended in Larry's wake. Ahkmenrah looked down, suddenly conscious of the smile on his face that wouldn't quite go away, and said out loud, "He's gone."

Sacagawea poked her head out of the side office first, then Roosevelt. They looked distinctly rumpled, and yet both their eyes were crinkled and their grins were knowing. "Don't worry, my boy, your campaign will see success eventually," Teddy boomed, walking into the guard office while straightening his gloves.

"I," Ahkmenrah replied, "haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to," but his smile mirrored theirs.


End file.
